The Lost Prophacy
by Lin3
Summary: Harry Potter with a large twist. Harry never thought his fifth year in Hogwarts school could be so adventurs. Werewolves, Vampires, darklords and more-a prophocy is broght to mind and is being fullfilled-and Harry finds love in the emeny-but that angers R


Lin: ok. . .I'm trying a second chapter. I feel that mik0217 is right when he say's that I jus' need to write more chapters to let people know what's going with my story. So here it is^.^  
  
Chapter one waking's  
  
"If I close my eyes, and breathe to the rolling rhythm of the sea, I can still remember that long  
  
ago day. Harsh, cold, and lifeless it was, as empty of promise as my lungs were  
  
empty of air. Since that day, I have seen many others, yet that day glows as bright as  
  
the Galator itself, as bright as the day I found my own name, or the day I first cradled a  
  
baby, who bore the name Arthur. Perhaps I remember it so clearly, because the pain, like a  
  
scar on my soul, will not disappear. Or because it marked the ending of so much. Or,  
  
perhaps, because it marked a beginning as well as an ending:  
  
the beginning of my lost years."  
  
~The Lost Years of Merlin By: T.A Baron  
  
I groaned as I awoke with a pain flashing through my head and slowly opened my eyes. Blue skies, calm and serene, meet my eyes, and I feel sand on my back, and while harsh rocks are poking at my legs scratching them.  
  
What had happened? That was the first thing that I thought.  
  
I'm laying here now, thinking. And thinking.  
  
Who am I? What happened? Where am I from? What about parents? Who are my parents? I feel that I should deeply be concerned for my mother and father and also my heart reaches out to something I don't know of. Something that is calling out to me, missing me, feeling for me. And it is as if I call for it, even though I don't open my mouth, nor do I know what 'it' is.  
  
I try to clear my head, but it just rings with the constant pang of guilt that I'm trying to forget what is calling me, and I feel an immediate rush of sadness, as I have the strongest urge to say sorry. The calling stops, not really calling, but it felt like that, as if the person has been shunned off, or has given up on me. No, I try to call out to it, but my throat itches, and makes me cough, no don't go!! Who are you.  
  
The feeling stays, vacant as much as hope does, blackened from my mind, and once again, I am alone. Or am I? I have the haunting feeling that I am being watched. I look around to see if I am, but decide not to ponder such foolishness. I don't know what it is, but whatever it is, it makes me worried. It makes my head ache. Everything is so confusing, I don't know the answer to anything, and it makes me angered. I cannot figure anything of what has been my own life. It's just, blank. Yet there. Like some one is there, some one who once was me, yet cannot get through to me.  
  
I sit up, and immediately regret it. My vision spins in front of my eyes, driving me to lay back, breathing deeply. Closing my eyes, this time I get up much slower, first leaning on my elbow, then to my knees. It's too much.  
  
I quickly roll over to vomit on the ground as I feel so dizzy I get sick.  
  
After finishing my heaving, I breathe deeply, and cough. Feeling another wave of sickness, I slowly make my way over to the calming waters that slowly wave back and forth with each push of a another wave. The water pushes up to my feet and slowly goes back to it's original place.  
  
I cup my hands and slowly splash water on my face, and look down to the crystal water. A face unknown to me stares back. Triangular ears, with black golden specked hair, with just as dark eyes, with golden specks in them. I sigh. A habit I'm sure I will keep. Suddenly, my head ache comes back, but only on my forehead. I grit my teeth and groan. What is wrong with my head. Opening my blurry eyes I pull my hand away and look at it. It's stained red. I'm bleeding. That is a dumb thought, of course I am.  
  
I idly look back to the swishing water, not caring that it is getting me wet again, and look. A gagged cut is there, almost barely seen on my dark tanned skin, but still there.  
  
I frown. How strange. I don't remember hitting my forehead. Then of course, I shake my head and sigh, I don't remember much of anything now, do I? I run my tongue over my lips. Not very many people are like me, I bet. I don't know where the thought came from, but it just hit me, so suddenly that I have to blink.  
  
Without cautioun, I look for an answer. Or maybe for someone like me. Or at least related to me. Yes related to me would help, help a lot.  
  
I suddenly get a picture in my head of a boy with green eyes and black hair, with one cut in the same place, the left side of the forehead, just above the eyebrow, similar to mine.  
  
Who is this boy? I sit there, looking off into the endless waters, as the picture of the boy laughs and shakes his head. Is he laughing at me? Or does he see something I cannot? I look around at the surroundings and blink. When my eyes open, my surroundings aren't the same, they make me immediately think of a castle. Magic maybe. It is definitely old, and I can see outside. It's snowing. Looking back to the boy, I give him a more thorough look. He has more pointy ear things than mine, they are more elegant, and he has softer looks about him. Yet, like me, he has a slim body and reminds me strongly of a girl. That makes me snort, and the boy crosses his arms and frowns at me.  
  
He shakes his head, and says something I cannot comprehend. Suddenly, I blink and my world comes back, rushing at me, making me grab harshly to some rocks that cut into my hands. Who was that? Was that someone I knew? I have a deep feeling that I know him, yet, I don't.  
  
I shake my head, looking back into the waters, and splash some of the liquid onto the cut making it sting and throb in pain.  
  
Opening my watering eyes again, I look down. The cut stands out more clearly now that it has been cleaned, and I knit my brows together once I see it clearly.  
  
I trace it with a light hand. It makes me think of green, for a reason I do not know. Such a pretty color, one of life and healing, gives me fear. Such a fear that I shiver, from coldness I'm not sure, and a tingle runs up and down my back.  
  
It is in the shape of a bolt of lighting. . . 


End file.
